Silvered Glass
by Axe25
Summary: Aya angst! Yay!


Red hair was his most distinguishing feature. It wasn't the red of hair so much as the red associated with poppies, or arterial blood. If his hair had been some normal color, even a red that hair was supposed to be his eyes would have set him apart from the crowd. They were a bright shade of violet. His parents were both rather unremarkable people and even his sister, though pretty, was normal in coloring. Aya was a freak of nature, though he was a startlingly pretty one. He would admit that Aya was pretty.   
Aya stared at him with those strange violet eyes, his gaze was the same icy gaze he used on everything else. Aya was the rim of ice put up to protect he last remnants of the boy Ran and the man he might have become. Aya wasn't so much a separate personality as a mask, everyone has masks after all. The mask of Aya allowed Ran to kill without remorse by keeping him from feeling anything. This also effectively prevented him from having friends or anything resembling a normal life.   
  
He was sick of this barrier, sick of the ice that was in every look Aya gave. The eyes showed no surprise as the fist slammed into them, no surprise as the face shattered. They only continued to look at him from a hundred fragments of mirror.   
  
He looked down at his hand, watching as the blood seeped from the lacerations and dripped down onto the fake white marble of the sink. A shard of silvered glass glinted between his knuckles and the cold eyes watched him from that as well. He plucked it out and dropped it into the trash can and then wrapped a washcloth around his hand as a temporary bandage.   
  
"Aya? You okay? I heard a crash."   
  
Ken. Ken should have been down in the shop with Omi. Yohji was off and was probably off doing something stupid. Which should have meant Aya was all alone, but Ken was in the hallway, sounding worried.   
  
"The mirror broke," Aya said. This was of course the perfect truth, but it would have been truer to say 'I broke the mirror' and to be perfectly honest he should have added a 'with my fist' to the end. But then Aya always did prefer the short version. He picked up fragments of mirror that stared at him with icy gazes and dropped them into the trash.   
  
"I'll help you get it cleaned up," Ken offered brightly. He often offered Aya unexpected help. He was friendly by nature and refused to be cowed in his overtures by a cold violet stare.   
  
Ken looked from Aya's cloth wrapped hand, to the shattered mirror and back again.   
  
"Oh," he said. Although Yohji had a tendency to imply otherwise Ken wasn't stupid. He could clearly see what had happened though he didn't understand why Aya would hit a mirror.   
  
He didn't comment though, he just knelt down and started picking up glass. Adding a warm brown worried look to the icy purple glare. When the glass was gone he took Aya's wounded hand. The glared Aya fixed on him dropped the temperature in the room several degrees but Ken didn't release the hand and Aya didn't snatch it back.   
  
Ken took the first aid kid out from under the sink. It was a bit better supplied than the average first aid kit but it didn't really need to be for a cut hand. Ken unwrapped the cloth and examined the wounds, nothing too serious but if it got infected it might be difficult for Aya to use the hand and it was his sword hand. So Ken began cleaning the wounds with an antiseptic. He knew from experience that the stuff made it feel like you had caught fire but Aya didn't react in the least, not a flinch or even a indrawn breath. Ken wondered sometimes if Aya was as immune to pain as the albino madman from Schwarz.   
  
"Shouldn't you be helping Omi?" Aya asked, as though the shop should be more important to Ken than his teammate.   
  
"Yohji switched shifts with me again."   
  
"Again?" Aya seemed fascinated with the attention Ken was giving his hand. Only rarely did people try to touch him and even more rarely did he allow it.   
  
"He switches shifts with me a lot, usually when I have a shift with Omi."   
  
"Ah," Aya said. Ken raised his eyebrows at the tone.   
  
"Ah what?" he though about it for a moment. "Oh! You think Yohji likes Omi? But Omi like that Schwa…" Ken had a big mouth sometimes. It didn't generally cause problems since he only really blurted things out to people he trusted. People he trusted included Aya, Omi and Yohji, exclusively. He could trust them with his life and with just about any secret he had. But Omi had specifically asked him not to say anything about it to Aya. 'He already hates me because I'm a Taketori. What if he found out I liked someone he considers the enemy too?' Omi had said. Ken agreed, he just hadn't been guarding his words as carefully as he would around someone he didn't trust.   
  
While Ken sat there in shock at having just told a secret to the one person he had been specifically asked to keep it from Aya pulled out a roll of bandages and began wrapping his hand. "I already knew."   
  
Aya's observational skills were sadly underrated. This was because, although he used them, he rarely shared his findings unless it was for a mission.   
  
Ken took the bandages from Aya and finished wrapping the lacerations.   
  
Ken was reluctant to relinquish the hand. It was nice to be able to touch Aya without getting glared at or shrugged off. The warmth of Aya's skin always surprised him. He expected Aya to be as cool as his regard.   
  
Then Aya fixed his eyes on Ken, questioning him silently as to why he didn't have his hand back yet. Ken released him and busied himself returning the first aid kit to its original state as Aya stood.   
  
"I'm going to get a new mirror," Aya said.   
  
"Why did you break the one we had?" Ken finally asked.   
  
"I didn't like the man I saw in it."   
  
As Aya walked away, he caught Ken's faint whisper.   
  
"I like him." 


End file.
